


what we deserve.

by ffomixam



Series: tumblr requests. [4]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: "Hi! I have a request! Would you write a hurt/comfort where the 4 guys had a horrible day during the US tour where the journalists tries to trash them during a long interview so they go back to the hotel and cuddle together through the night? <3"





	what we deserve.

The bright lights of the large meeting hall were blinding and full of people, making Paul feel so isolated and warm. They were on their second hour of the press junket and it hadn’t felt very welcomed in this city thus far. The reporters screaming at them about one thing or another. **  
**

“… Do you disagree with this?”

The journalist sneered at Paul from his plastic seat that started a row of other reporters. The first part of the question already forgotten in its own crudeness.

“Well, I-” Paul started with a gentle shake of his head but was quickly interrupted by another reporter.

“What do you have to say about the allegations of plagiarism that Music Today wrote about in their article yesterday?” The microphone was trusted violently in the direction of Paul.

“That it’s-” Again he was interrupted, though he didn’t hear what the reporter had to say after that as John beside him suddenly and loudly yelled out over the growing noises of reporters trying to yell louder than the other.

“Let him speak!” He snapped into the crowd causing a roar of comments and questions. He lifted slightly up in his seat, either to seem threating or to actually jump over the table to attack. Either way, it was quickly hindered by their manager, Brian, who put a hand on John’s shoulder, guiding him back down.

Brian spoke loudly with a show of firm authority; “one at a time, please,” and crossed his arm as he politely smiled into the crowd. All an act, of course. If the beating anxiety in his heart was any indication.

And while the crowd of journalists geared down to a small hum of chatter amongst themselves with the regular question to the young boys; the hard-hitting, and rather rude, questioning didn’t die down and stayed on as tough as it did before.

* * *

John stormed into the room he shared with George. Yelling and filled with rage, he couldn’t believe the gall of those reporters. Harping after them like that! For what? Some sensationalist article with not even an ounce of truth! Oh, it made him so fucking mad. And that they were so obvious about it!

He was quickly followed into the room by the rest of the band, and Brian. Who was going on about something or another. Lecturing him. Him! About his behaviour at the press junket.

“Oh, piss off, Brian!” he yelled as he slammed the door to the compact bathroom. Whatever the manager’s goal was with the lecture; it certainly wasn’t proceeding the way he wanted. Quite frankly, it only riled up John more. His heart was beating violently in his chest where it also reached to his ears.

He glanced to the image of himself in the bathroom mirror as he leaned over the sink. His face was red and warm. His pupils visibly dilated. His sweaty palms clenched around the edges of the sink as he overheard the talking from the other room. He couldn’t make sense of it as the beating in his ears was deafening.

He splashed cold water unto his face and shut his eyes closed as he recalled the numerous exercises he had practised with Paul. On how to calm down with he got this mad. Deep breaths and counting to ten. He could do so much. Deep breaths.

“John?” He heard through the door as his head slowly cleared. It was Paul and softly sighed as he straightened back up and opened the door.

“’m fine,” he muttered and went past him. George and Ringo next to each other at the end of one of the twin beds staring at him as he slowly made his way further into the room. John looked around the room and saw that their manager was nowhere to be found.

And as if he knew, Paul said; “we asked Brian to leave.”

John drew a heavy sigh and threw himself unto the empty bed, accepting the light bouncing it caused as he landed on the mattress. He started at the ceiling. At the bright white and flawless fucking ceiling.

“Want to talk about it?” He heard Ringo tentatively ask.

“No.”

The mattress dipped slightly down and when John glanced to his left, he saw Paul sitting on the edge of the bed looking quietly at him. He looked beaten and tired. Reminding John of how his own behaviour might have affected the boys. The reporters had gone rough after all on them but for some reason, John didn’t quite understand, this time they had gone especially after the cute Beatle.

“You’re sure?” George this time asked.

“…No.”

John sighed and sat up, looking at his friends. Ringo and George sat shoulder to shoulder, both looking the same as Paul. And John sure felt the way they looked. He sighed, “I’m just… tired.”

Paul glanced to the pair and slowly nodded. An idea forming between them. Paul made a move off the bed and placed himself at the end of it, by John’s feet, rather than sit on the side. “Let’s do what we did in Chicago,” Paul declared into the room.

Chicago. The first city of the tour. It had been overwhelming and crowded. Suffocating. And had caused the young men to later in the night to share a bedroom only met for two. The twin beds pushed together to form a queen so they could huddle up together in the dark and threatening room. If anything could help John, and the others, right now; it was definitely a repeat of that.

John voiced his approvals of the idea and dragged himself off the bed to go check if the door was properly locked. It was. And he turned around only to see that the other men were already hard at work with putting the two beds together.

Soon, they were all down to their smallclothes and were laid comfortably in bed with the multiple covers pulled roughly over them.

The order was so; George with his arms around Paul. Paul staring into the expressive eyes of John’s, while Ringo had his arms around John. The order was different each time they had done this, and completely random.

It was nice… Beyond nice. The regular breathing of the boys around John helping with calming his nerves and tensions down. Ringo’s warm hands on his stomach. The smell of Paul’s cologne and the graze of George’s eyes as they peaked out from behind Paul. He shared a smile with George, the only two being the ones left awake. He could feel the rhythmic heartbeat behind him from Ringo. He could feel the regular breathing from Paul, smelling of fresh mint.

This is what he needed and deserved. What they all did. And exactly what they wanted after a long day. A good cuddle with their favourite people. Not the incessant screaming and questioning from strangers only out to get them for publicity and money. Damn them.

When he woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare or anxiety; this is what he wanted to wake up to. Not the empty and bare walls of some sodding hotel room. But the sounds and sights of Paul, Ringo, and George.


End file.
